Our answers to tiki torches are Molotov tails
Drink up
As the fire consumes the palest of skin and turns it black
But they can not be us
We the people who are darker than blue uniforms that guard devils as they march
Cowards with too much freedom
Too much privilege
Ghosts in the shells of common beasts
The sound of shell casings as they tap the ground after the explosion
Black power
Black guns
Children of the sun
Shine your light...